Doctor Sirranna Hallstone gazed down at the fossilized animal and knew immediately what it was. This was only natural, of course. She’d seen these kinds of bones before hundreds of times, knew their lines and curves and orifices. The form overall was not unlike those of the dragons from the Dreadstone cliffs or the sea walkers occasionally sighted off the more remote coasts of the Aural continent.
Familiar as these bones were, and as frequently as she’d seen similar specimans, she always found it unsettling the way its head and tail arched. It looked as if its death had come by violence at the hands of some other creature bending it in half. The skeleton was whole, however, with no cracks or claw marks. Not a violent death, by the looks of it.
She read the plackart by the specimen. Uviceptor philoteratus, excavated in the Alagor Desert in Fifthsun, 2376 OA.
“A good specimen as I’ve ever seen,” said Hactor Jelkin, her assistant. He had wheeled the specimen into her lab a few minutes ago for her examination and had stood by scribbling notes onto a clipboard.
“As good as can be hoped for, Jelkin,” answered Doctor Hallstone.
Jelkin’s mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to find a way to express just how singular such a complete skeleton was.
“It’s a very complete skeleton,” added Doctor Hallstone. “With a complete pelvis, for a change. We haven’t seen one of those in one piece before.”
Jelkin nodded enthusiastically and showed her his notes. “By the red sun, yes! I didn’t realize the iliac blade would be so widely curved! This throws every one of Langstorm’s reconstructions into question! And proves quite a few of your own theories right, I’ll add. Like how the shape of the acetebulum indicates that this clearly…”
Doctor Hallstone stopped listening as her mind wandered to alien deserts dotted with rugged cliffs and odd green-gold shrubs. She heard the shrieks and resonant calls of prehistoric animals shaking the air in the setting sun, smelled the scents of plantlife and animal leavings in the wind. In her mind, she watched groups of Uviceptorae roving about the desert and rifling through nests for eggs and small prey. She saw them battle with other animals with rigid crests and protruding horns, or flee from packs of feathered Vulcoraptorae with their curving claws and rows of snagging teeth. Squawks, bellows, and chirps were all underlaid with the noise of tearing flesh and rumbling growls, all as the winds stirred the sands and the sun sent its red-gold rays accross the scene.
In a flight of fancy, she thought of the names such creatures would have had for one another in those days. Predators would be expressed with frantic shrieks and roars. Friends would be soft purrs and chirps.
“Doctor Hallstone?” asked Jelkin, bringing her back to the present.
She shook herself from her reverie.
“I’ll get to work documenting this, Jelkin.” she replied. “I’ll call you if I need anything.” Her assistant nodded and left.
With a gloved hand, she stroked the vertebrae. Thinking back to her visions of the prehistoric world, she wondered briefly if she had met this creature in life. It was possible, she supposed, but unlikely. There had been many such creatures back in the day, and only a handful did she feed or fight during those days mere centuries since she’d first been stranded on this world.
Stranded. This was home now, she thought, and would remain so until its sun grew dark, in all likelihood.
She traced the pelvic bone and felt a pang of homesickness. Not for her homeworld – by the red sun, no – but for those red-gold days when this world was a little younger and the only noise was that of animal and element. The bustling presence of humanity hadn’t taken root here just yet, and the world was more pleasant (if less comfortable) for it.
Chuckling, she shoved these notions aside. She’d thought she’d left sentimentality behind ages ago. After all, it gave too little to one who lived eons, all while taking far too much.
Pulling out a notebook, Doctor Hallstone set about pretending to discover things she’d known for millions of years.
This flash fiction short story is brought to you by ideas that strike the mind as lightning upon seeing an Oviraptor skeleton on the internet. Share this post with your friends, or support the blog on Patreon. All proceeds go toward tracking down renegade immortals hiding out on remote worlds. Really.
Image from photo by Marcus Lange on Pexels.